Happy New Years To You...

As the waning hours of the final busy work day of 2008 fall into the past and the evening of celebration looms ahead, I wanted to take a second and wish you a very Happy New Year.

I sincerely hope that the new year, 2009, is a happy, safe, healthy and prosperous one for you. The sins of the past fall off of us all like cobwebs in the attic and everything ahead of us is Opportunity.

I hope you find new experiences, new pleasures, new tastes, new joys in the new year. I hope that you meet the changes that you undertake, either voluntarily or otherwise, in 2009, with resilience, flexibility, strength and grace.

Let me close out this entry with a quote that someone just forwarded me in an email. I couldn't agree with it more...

We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day.
~Edith Lovejoy Pierce

Have a Happy New Year, All of you Lovely Goddamn People!

Cheers,
Mr.B



PS. If you're out and about tonight and are looking to raise a glass with me, you'll find me at The Town Hall Pub tonight. After considering the many lovely party invitations, I think I'm going to spend the evening in my pub of choice, looking as sharp as I can manage, surrounded by friends and strangers, and slowly pickling my liver in vodka and cranberry juice. I have no plans to meet anyone there. I have no idea where I will go after that. I enter the evening devoid of plans, armed with a sharp suit, a flask of black cherry vodka and a few twenties. Ready to embrace whatever adventure comes my way. Oh... and I plan to kiss every pretty girl within arms reach, when the clock strikes twelve. On that you can depend...

Snowed In? Oh Well, There's Always Facebook.

I just got a notice that my 8:50pm flight to Louisville has been delayed until 11:30pm. Buuuuuuuuuuut, I should still get there by 8pm, so that I can get a comfy seat for my nearly three hour wait. (And that's assuming that my plane actually takes off.)

I should be annoyed by this, but I'm really not. I have a good book to take with me ("American Gods" by Neil Gaiman) and the final two Alan Moore, Swamp Thing graphic novels. And a full ipod of music, Venture Brothers episodes and podcasts to keep me entertained. If all else fails, I can lean up against a wall somewhere and catch some z's, at least until the snoring alerts security and they send someone see what the deafening racket is.

I'm fine with the delay. The great big fat snowflakes that are covering my city in a big, white blanket right now doesn't mean to do me any harm. It just is. Snow just snows. There's not too much to be said beyond that.

And there are worst places to be, than busily occupied in an American airport. Like, work, for example. Being at work would be worse. Being buried alive under an avalanche would be worse. Pompei, looking up at an erupting Vesuvius would be worse. Or pushing through a high-rise plate glass window to prove to an intern how strong it is, would be worse. All things considered, I don't mind the airport. I don't mind the delay.

The holiday has officially begun, when I walk out this door. This is cause to celebrate.

If I owned a laptop, I could spend my idle time, farting around on Teh Facebook. Of which I am now a member. After a friend (Brandy) talked to me about it today, I decided to join the damned thing. She said, "You'll see so many people on there that you haven't seen in a while" and I do. I think I have 80+ friends right now, with more trickling in from the 300 contacts in my email contacts list. People pop up and write a funny message on my "wall" and then disappear again. My friends are a strange mix of Chicago Friends and High School Friends and College Friends. Three distinctive phases of my life, blending together in some sort of surreal, chronologically-dissonent, massive cocktail party. The girl that I used to drool over in high school is "friends" with me, right next to the girl that I drool over, these days. Former teachers. Former enemies. Former Lovers. Current friends. All mashed together in a hodge-podge of faces and cryptic messages "Remember me from high school? We didn't really talk much. But I remember you." As I said, it's strange to be a participant in this whole, robust online community. There are all new rules of engagement to learn, new mistakes to make (What do you MEAN that message I wrote on your Wall was publicly posted?!?) new levels of non-communication to negotiate.

It would've made a great time waster, while at the airport. And a good ending to a day that started out weird. This morning, while riding the bus to work, I called and contacted an old high school/ college buddy, Alan K. There's a gathering on Friday, after Christmas at Kevins house for old Western alums. We decided that we should try to get Alan there and an internet search for his phone number lead to his brothers house and his brothers wife gave me his cell phone number and we actually talked on the phone for twenty minutes, at work today. Alan is going to try to make the party on Friday. I hope he does. It will be good to connect with him again after an 11 year absence.

Today has been a day for re-connecting with the ghosts from the past.
For forgiving myself for who I am today, as compared to who they thought I was, then.
This sounds totally gayballz, but I'll say it anyways. The whole time, today, that I've been diving deep into my past, on teh Facebook, I've been thinking about Benjamin Button and how steadily and maturely, he navigated the forces of his life. The things you can't take back.
The things you wished you'd done.
The people you've crossed lives with.
The places you've been.
The person you used to be.

I've been confronting all of those things with a steadiness and a reassurance of self that I normally don't have. I accept who I am now. I accept who I was before. I forgive myself for the dumb things I did in the past. I forgive the people who did cruel things to me.

From this perspective, everybody you meet or have met is your "friend".

Something to mull over as I pass the minutes and hours in Chicago's Midway airport.

Go Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, Now.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Two True Tales From The Chicago Improv World.

I made these two little cartoons for a thread on CIN and it looks like I forgot to post them here. I think that they're actually pretty funny. The best part of both cartoons is that they're 100% true.

And they're intentionally drawn poorly. (That was a style choice of that thread.)

Enjoy,
Mr.B

(you might need to click to embiggen these.)

The MakeOut.


The TJ Scam.


(For those not IN improv, TJ is the name of one of Chicagos current improv gurus. And with good reason. He's a really nice guy and knows his shit about improv.)

For point of reference, here's one of his Sonic commercials. He's the guy on the left. We obviously look nothing alike.



So, now that it's been pretty fully explained to you, you get the cartoon, right? Right?

Fuck you, then.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Saga of The Swamp Thing...

Thanks to Hendo, I recently filled in a bunch of the holes in my graphic novel collection. Specifically, I've completed my runs of James Robinson's "Starman" and the entire run of Alan Moore's "Swamp Thing". (He also hooked me up with the entire run of "The Invisibles" and "Transmetropolitan" and some other cool books.)

Currently, I'm working my way through Alan Moore's incredible run of "Saga Of The Swamp Thing." Apparently, it was just another crappy little book, on the verge of cancellation when DC allowed Moore, then a relatively unknown comics author, permission to run with "Swamp Thing".

The first thing that he did was kill the character off.

Which was genius.

The hook of the book was that his guy, Alec Holland, was in his swamp laboratory, when he was attacked by bad guys. The lab exploded. Holland burned alive and at the last second, fell into the swamp with Unknown Chemicals. And was reborn as the Swamp Thing. Alec Hollands mind in a very strong body made of tree limbs, moss, etc. Of course, the first thing he did was wreak revenge on his attackers. And then he spent the almost every issue, since then, looking for a cure for his condition.

Moore felt that this limited the character. To have one's singular existence revolve around a central question - "Will Alec Holland ever become human again?" - limited his focus as character and writer. So, Moore killed Holland almost immediately and spent his first issue conducting an autopsy on the Swamp Thing's body. Where it was discovered that everything internal was also vegetable matter, mimicking human function. Alec Holland died in the accident, but his "soul", if you will, was inherited by the swamp muck and went about, thinking it was Alec Holland. Of course, the Swamp Thing regains consciousness and eventually finds out what he isn't - anything human - and what he is - alive, nonetheless and begins an existential journey that lasted several years in the book.

Once the character died for once and for all, the book finally kicked into high gear.

And of course, it's brilliant. Alan Moore's Swamp Thing fell in love, had sex, got married, saved the world, learned about how things really work. In the issue that I'm currently reading, his wife, Abby Chase, has been photographed having sex with him in the swamp and is labeled a sex offender. She skips bail, heads to Gotham City and the Swamp Thing heads there, looking for her, by surfing the web of all living things, between Louisiana and Gotham. When he gets to Gotham, the Swamp Thing basically flips out and activates every living plant in Gotham to swallow up the city into an island of Eden, weaving through the building canyons of the city. On the page before I stopped reading, Batman stands on a gargoyle looking down and the newly re-forested Gotham, grimly assessing the situation.

I'm just about to read his story "My Blue Heaven", where a lost Swamp Thing, surfs through the universe and ends up on an unpopulated blue planet, where he uses his plant powers to create simulacrums of everyone he knows, to keep himself company. Of course, they're not the real people and he realizes that they only know what he tells them and say what he knows and he's forced to admit, again, that he's entirely alone. It's called by some, a heartbreaking exploration of loneliness and depression.

And here's where I find myself marveling at how good this book is, some 22 years after it was originally written. I want to walk up to people and say, "Hey man, how cool is THIS shit, huh? That bit where the Swamp Thing erupts out of a single rose in the courtroom, covered in roses and thorns, that was pretty bitchin', wasn't it?"

But there's no one to say it to, since the odds are unlikely that anyone around me is reading the book too. Or has ever read the book. Since comics are a relatively unpopular art medium. And within it, there are so many different titles and stories, that two comics fans can meet and talk and find out that neither of them has read the same stories.

So, that's it. I'm reading a really incredible, terribly smart book, which is subtly altering my perceptions of what's possible in a told story and I really don't have anyone to share it with. So I post about it here...

Cheers,
Mr.B

Out On The Frozen Tundra: A Weekend WrapUp

Well, this was a pretty good weekend, actually.

Friday was a work day that refused to end. I walked out of the theater at 7:15pm to talk up to the theater for a 7:30pm curtain of our current holiday show. (My third time seeing it this season.) My good friend, Ian, came out to see the show with me and we generally agreed that it was a good show. Afterwards, we caught dinner over at Clarke's, right next to the theater. It was good to catch up with Ian. I forgot how funny he is and we laughed about girls, dating, theater and our jobs for a while. A great time. Ian and I caught a cab over to Katie B's holiday party and while we were there a little late, we DID catch a few drinks and bull-shitted with Megan P. for a while. Again, the company was so good, that I laughed until the back of my head hurt. Good friends.

Saturday was a work day. I slept until 10am, caught some lunch and then went in to work at noon. My boss was in the office and we worked together for 45 minutes, as I finalized some stuff for the imminent London trip. I walked out of the office at 2pm and then caught a bus and then another bus down to the South Side for my afternoon voiceover lesson. After months of work, we're just about ready to head into the studio and record my first voiceover demo. That will happen on the first Saturday in January. We've got 6 or 7 commercial spots ready to go. And I'm researching 2 or 3 more narrative pieces to go with those. All in all, we'll records 10 different spots in about an hour. I'll get a CD of my works and then have them email mp3's of the spots to me. After that, i set up a website and begin campaigning for voiceover work. If that starts coming home to nest, 2009 will be a very good year.


Another International Stinger Holiday Special.

Saturday evening, was the second performance of the "International Stinger 2008 Holiday Spectacular". In past years, we've done a Holiday-Themed show, a show from an all-elf cast, a Dickens-style holiday show, a Hanukkah show and this year we did a "Late 70's, Early 80's Holiday Television Special" (from backstage). One of our theatrical conceits was that we would open the center of the upstage curtain and perform, with our faces pressed to the back wall. This indicated to our audience, that they were backstage at the show, watching the performers interact without the pressure of performing. And because it was a holiday special, we had an interesting mix of "novelty acts" like plate spinners and jugglers and late 70's celebrities (William Shatner, Pam Dawber, David Hasselhoff) conversing, hanging out and prepping to do the show together. Romances blossomed. Sabotage Occurred. At one point, in rehearsal, a seeing-eye gorilla took a gun and shot Todd Bridges onstage.

This last show, though, was probably the best of the bunch. It opened with me as Kenny Rogers talking to Cindy Lauper (a playful, bouncy, Melissa H). We were scheduled to do a duet together and I was nervous about it. Ben played "Pigeon Pete", an urban-animal trainer who taught pigeons and rats to do tricks. Before the show, Ben and I ran to Ragstock and he bought a red and white, holiday pimp hat. Ironically, "Pigeon Pete" was so laid-back, that everything was "coo" with him. Which was also how he addressed his caged pigeons "cooo!" Todd S was Mr. Belvedere, who was there to do some "Holiday Welding". Erin was the beleaguered stage manager, wearing an elf hat. Kathy B. was the World's Worst Tumbler. She wore a green, 1980's dress and a high-tight permed wig and was determined to get every celebrity to sign her breast. (We learned early on that she'd had a mastectomy and wanted us to sign "the good one".) Intrigue reared it's head when a stage hand delivered a letter to me from Dolly Parton, who was in the audience. We had broken up our act and there was trouble between us. But in her letter (playfully voiced-over by Chrissy), Dolly was ready to reconcile. (There was a funny bit where Erin came onstage and asked me what was going on. I told him I had a letter from Dolly Parton and that he had to read it. He accepted and we both looked over at Chrissy, who refused to read the letter again. After an awkward pause, I told him to read it "outloud", we both broke for a second, onstage and then were swept off of it. A really funny bit.) We had lots of fun with the Pigeon Pete character, at one point, his rats and pigeons were released and it looked like he was going to have to go on without them, but he was able to lure them back with an R&B rendition of the Pigeon Call. I swept that, since all other Stingers were onstage to be rats and pigeons. While Erin juggled behind me, I went out into the audience and addressed the only blonde lady in the audience, "I got your note" I said to her and we all knew that she was now Dolly Parton. I apologized to her for how I acted in Reno and that she was right to throw that tv set at me. I wanted her to know that I missed her too. And that i was sorry that we broke up the act. I told her that it was my Christmas wish that we would do the show Finale together. The lady was NOT having it. She laughed and laughed, but wouldn't make eye contact with me. Her friends cheered her on, but she kept waving me off, saying, "No. No. No. I can't. Thank you, Kenny, but no." She was laughing through the whole thing, so I knew I wasn't pushing her too far. I walked away from her, but turned back at the last second and sang a little bit of "Lady" to her, before I walked away. Big laughs on that. A few scenes later, the red light came on and it was time to wrap things up. Pigeon Pete and Mr.Belvedere were onstage talking welding and I grabbed the backstage mic and walked out to address the audience as Kenny Rogers. I ham-handedly connected my country music career and "I'll Be Home For Christmas" and Chrissy came out with her flute and Todd entered with his guitar and she played the opening chord and Todd strummed along with her and the whole cast joined me for "I'll Be Home For Christmas". I walked over to "Dolly Parton" and tried to get her to come onstage with me. She tried to crawl into her sweater and hide. When it looked like it was a "no go", I broke down and cried and screamed at her, "DOLLY PARTON, YOU RUINED MY LIFE! I'LL NEVER WORK WITH YOU AGAIN! ALSO, I SLEPT WITH YOUR SISTER IN TULSA OKLAHOMA, SHE LOVED IT! LIVE WITH THAT!" while everyone else held it together with the song, behind me. Lights faded down at the end of the song and over the mic, in the dark, I yelled "Fuck it!" and threw the mic down. When the lights came up, we got big applause, I apologized to Dolly Parton, we took our bows and that was the end of the night. It was one of of those nearly perfect shows, from start to finish. A perfect illustration of why this troupe is so special. A nice watermark of the work we can do together. I love my troupe.

After that show, I went to the Town Hall pub to have a drink and enjoy their holiday party. Santa Mees showed up and I sat on his lap and he gave me a kabuki mask and shirt. I also got holiday glow sticks, which I hung from my Kenny Rogers glasses. Greg got pics of those. I'll post them, when i get them from him. I hung out with Sam the bartender and Todd S. and Ben Parker for a while. The guys from The Senate were there and we got to hang out a bit too. At 11:30pm, it was time to settle my tab (13$, a raping that I griped about and then tipped over, a ritual between Sammy and I) and head to the theater for the BBR.


Visions Of Sugarplums.

I have to admit, I was pretty nervous, walking in there. I don't know why. I guess I was still a little bit ashamed about the conditions under which I left the show. But I needn't have worried. Everyone there was happy to see me. Lots of hugs all the way around. Pre-Show with Hendo was effortless. He helped set the seats out, i took care of front of house. We got our audience in, as quickly as possible and then the show began. After that, it was like old times, again. Hendo and I played together onstage, easily and naturally. I think I did a good job of complimenting his work, without competing with him. Setup for the acts went without a hitch and Hendo and I even found ourselves playing small parts in Titi Touche's striptease. The audience was a little quiet and we had two hecklers in the back that we had to quietly shush, late in the show. All in all, though, it was a pretty good show. The cast treated me wonderfully and it was fun being back in that costume and that character again. I got off a few good lines and only one mis-fire and had a blast.

After the show, we adjourned to the Town Hall Pub for post-show cocktails. Greg, Hendo and I ate pizza and drank our drinks. Hendo bought a round of shots for us all. Sitting there, between those two guys, overdosing on holiday cheer, I was as happy as I've been in a long time. It was good to be back with those guys. I've really missed them both.



Greg and I were leaving around the same time and we ran into Katie B and her friends outside the Town Hall. They invited us to an After-AfterParty at the UnderBar and we went. Greg and I make it a rule never to turn down a request by a pretty girl to go to a bar, with them. It was a short cab ride to this other bar, which I'd never been to before. At the bar, she and I caught up a little bit and I met her friends, Deepok, Chauncey and the Really Drunk One. Never caught his name, but he did say some really nice stuff to me about how much he enjoyed seeing me in the show. It was very sweet. Later, Chauncey learned how to twirl glowsticks in a circle, all trippy-like, but then he lost his grip on one of them and it went silently arching through the air to land somewhere behind the bar. A few of the drunks gave us the stinkeye for that one. But Chauncey apologized to the bartender and she gave it back to him, securing his promise NOT to go tossing it around again. It was pretty funny.


Fucking Freezing.

The party broke up around 4 in the morning and Greg and I stepped out of the bar into the Frozen, Fucking Tundra. Because the bar was right next to the viaduct on Western, we knew that we would have a short walk to catch a cab. So, we traipsed up Western, crunching hard snow drifts underfoot. The wind was blowing insanely strong and it pushed us both up the street. At times, I couldn't hear what Greg was saying behind me. The wind was that loud. My ears felt like they were on fire, they hurt so badly. At the bus stop, Greg wrapped his scarf "Baghdad Style". All I could see was his eyes. I re-wrapped my scarf and pulled down my hat and wrapped myself as tight as possible and waved for cabs until we thought we were going to freeze to death. (I found out later that the wind chill was -30 below.) It was terrible. The coldest I can remember being in a long, long time. A cab finally came and we were on our way.

Sunday was pretty uneventful. I slept in and ordered Chinese for lunch. The wind was still up and it was -30 degrees during the middle of the day. I watched the first disk of "The Two Towers" and cleaned my room a bit. Late in the day, I did some Christmas shopping. The weather being what it was, I settled for a "Interesting Book & Gift Card" Christmas for everyone. I finally got home around 6pm and refused to leave the house for the rest of the night. I played LEGO Star Wars until my eyes watered. Our apartment was pretty cold, due to low pressure in the steam heaters. I hooked up the electric blanket and closed my door to keep the heat in and eventually got it up to 69 degrees in my room. Maggie and I slept pretty well through the night.


The Courthouse in Downtown Louisville, Ky.

Today, I have some work stuff to get done.
Tonight, the dog gets a bath and I pack my bags for holiday travel. Ian is also putting OS on the tower that I bought from Rance, a million years ago. He's also going to solve the Mystery of the Blue Box, which came with the tower.
Tomorrow, I work again.
Tomorrow night, I fly to Louisville, Ky for the holidays.
Saturday morning, my mom's side of the family takes a short trip to Gatlinburg, TN and we hide out for the Christmas Holiday weekend. We celebrate one of my cousins sons' birthdays with a Big Pancake Breakfast. Later, the kids all go tourist sight-seeing in Gatlinburg. I have it in mind, that I am going to try to do Indoor Skydiving, while in Gatlinburg. If that happens, I'll post pictures here.

I don't know how active this blog will be while I'm gone for the holidays. So let me say this to you now,

"Wherever you are, Whatever you do for the holidays, Take Time to Enjoy the Good Company of Those Around you. I hope you are warm, safe, well-fed and loved by your Family. Have a Merry Christmas!"

All My Best,
Mr.B

Move Over Ben Franklin...

Alan Hawkins, our fine graphics artist for SFS, just sent this to me and I wanted to share it here. It was a graphic that he proposed using on a poster for our January show. As funny as I thought it was, I asked him to pull me out and plug Harz in instead. One of the things about SFS is that it's an ensemble piece and I don't want people to mistake me for the lead performer in it. So, I try to spread the sunshine around. Accordingly, it will be Harzy's time to shine on the January graphic. Which I will post here, when I receive the final copy.

But because Alan is a good sport and a resourceful guy, he cut this graphic out and sent it to me anyways. I think it's pretty funny. I look pretty stern for a piece of currency, don't I?



Cheers,
Mr.B

Go See THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON.

I snagged a free ticket to go see an advanced preview of this movie on Thursday night and I am still thinking about this movie, two days later. It's beautiful and terribly sad. It manages, in two hours to encompass all the wonderful potential of a human life and the cold, pointlessness of death. The overall theme of the movie is, "Nothing lasts. Enjoy what you have, while you've got it" which is a difficult thing for human beings to grasp. Most of us just don't think about it at all. But it's true. Everything and everyone changes. You can fight it and lose or accept it and move forward. I think that the movie makes the argument that a better, richer life is lived by those who accept it and move forward, deeply drinking in the life that they live, while they live it.

It's a sublimely beautiful film. Beyond David Fincher's hauntingly lovely world that he's created here and Brad Pitt & Cate Blanchett's remarkably subtle work here, the story, itself, is the biggest star. And it's one you haven't heard before. Because you're too busy living it.

This movie touched me pretty deeply. It made me ask questions about my own life, that I'm still struggling with now. It made me want to make some changes in the very small things that I can actually affect. I feel like there's the person I was before I saw this movie and the person that I am, now that I've seen it. And that these two people are not the same person. That there are shifts in perception that will ripple out and make bigger changes in my life and the lives of people around me. (If feels odd to think that a movie could do that for a person, but that's honestly how it feels for me. Maybe this is one of those truly great films like "Taxi Driver" and "The Godfather" that really shape the people who see it. I feel like it has changed me.)

Here's the trailer for the film. It neatly and quickly touches on every major moment of the movie. After seeing the film, I can't believe so much of it is in this trailer. But without the context of the moments you're seeing, it all just washes by, like so many pretty scenes, one after another. (After you see the movie, though, it's nice to see this flip-book of the moments of Benjamin Button's life. They're all here, in this trailer.)



Before I close this out with a link to a review that I want you to read, a review that nearly perfectly captures how I feel about this movie in a much more articulate way than I can, I want to forewarn you about something about this movie. It's heavy and it's deep and it's intense. The last 30 minutes of the movie are singularly focused on loss, old age and death. And they're very hard to take. I quietly cried to myself, for the last thirty minutes of the movie, straight. And when the credits rolled, I had to sit in my seat, listening to Alexander Desplat's beautiful music, collecting myself before I could get up and leave the theater. I want you to know how painful this movie is, before you think to go see it. Because it is. And you should know what you're getting into, before you go see it. So, consider yourself warned.

I want to link you to Moriarty's comprehensive review of the movie on AICN. You can read the review here. This guy, GETS this movie in a big way. I think it changed him too. And he's much smarter about analyzing why the film works so well. I think he'll tell you about it and answer your questions and allay your concerns, even though, he might have to spoil some key points of the movie to get you there. (So, if you're one of those people who hates spoilers - good on you, I can't do that - you might want to avoid this review.) I imagine, reading this review, without the context of what he's talking about, the details will wash by like pictures of someone else that you don't know. So, it might not be all that spoilerish, after all. Read the review. Maybe it will give a better explanation of what I am trying to say.

Here's a quote from his review...

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON is one of the most piercing, beautiful, eccentric studio movies in recent memory, an exquisitely crafted film about memory, love, opportunity, and the passage of time. Technical wizardry and emotional delicacy combine to create an experience that is, for lack of a better word, magic. Set during the landfall of Hurricane Katrina, BUTTON tells an epic-scale story that is actually an intimate emotional journey, unusual and unlike any other film I can name.

I absolutely agree. It is delicate and magical.

And it opens on Christmas Day.

Which means that you have 5 days to prepare yourself for it. Or to make plans to see it. Which you absolutely should.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Tis The Season for "Scared Of Santa"

One of my favorite holiday traditions is to peruse the "Scared of Santa" gallery. Now you can too, by clicking on this link. If you've never seen it before, "Scared of Santa" was a contest that the Florida Sun Sentinel ran a few years ago, asking readers to submit pictures of themselves or their children, being terrified by Santa. It caught a lot of press initially and people continue to submit their pics, years later. It's a great way to get into the holiday mood...

Enjoy.

Cheers,
Mr.B

SOTD: The Musical. - Early Notice.

Some of you may be aware that my current project du jour... the mental puzzle that occupies my down time ... is a full-on, musical theater version of ... a to-be-named zombie movie. You probably know what movie I'm talking about. It's sort of a romantic comedy, set in London, as the zombie apocalypse is happening. The heroes hole up in the local pub, to wait it out. Not all of them survive. Yes, THAT movie. You've got it.

Let's not name it here or in the comments, lest we attract unwanted attention.

Anyways, I got the idea to turn it into a musical theater comedy, about a month ago and have been working on it since then. I've got 14 songs outlined and planned for the play. I want them to pop up, as musical numbers do, during a balls-accurate staging of the rest of the movie. I want zombies! I want a speeding car chase! I want dance numbers!

I also want an eight week run of the show, to go up in September of next year and run through Halloween.

I have all manner of suprises in store. Song structure and placement. Lovingly accurate recreations of moments from the movie (walk-through of the newly zombified neighborhood? Check! Throwing Records at The Girl In The Garden? Check! The Doppelgang? Check!) Also, there's a raffle planned, audience participation, full frontal male nudity and orangutan impressions galore. All of this fueled by a deep appreciation for the film and my own ignorance of what I can or can not accomplish. (I begin every project with the assumption that everything is going to work out better than I intend it to. Luckily for me, I know a small army of talented people who make these things happen, well above my capacity to execute them.)

So, last night, and here's the reason I am posting about this, I took a BIG STEP forward towards doing the show. I found an online script for the film. I have been dreading transcribing that movie, not because it's a bad movie, but because that would take forever. Luckily for me, someone else already did that work. I copied the script to my own computer and began formatting it for my form, plugging in place-holders for the songs that I'm looking to add.

Add to that, I have a song-writer on retainer. And I have confirmed interest from three strong potential leads. As it turns out, the more that I get done, the closer I get to this happening and the more likely it becomes.

Here's the production schedule I've created for myself.

DECEMBER
Finish formatting the script.
Write Lyrics for the first four songs.

JANUARY
Write lyrics for four more songs.
Get four finished songs from the song-writer. (4 total)
Finish Props List.
Finish Sound Effects List.

FEBRUARY
Write lyrics for four more songs.
Get four more finished songs from the song-writer. (8 total.)
Tweak script / Finalize directorial decisions for staging.

MARCH
Write lyrics for two more songs.
Get four more finished songs from the song-writer. (12 total.)

APRIL
Get final two songs from song-writer. (14 total.)
Stage Reading w/ Feedback Session - mid April.

MAY
Press Releases Go Out.
Confirm with Music Director & Choreographer / Fight Choreographer.
Auditions in Late May. Cast Secured.
Rehearsal Schedule finished and set.

JUNE
Rehearsals begin in early June.
Costumes gathered.
Blood Effects Designed.

JULY
Rehearsals continue.
Minimal Scenary built.

AUGUST
Rehearsal continue, adding sound effects, props, blood effects, etc.
Reviewers scheduled, as available.

SEPTEMBER
Two weeks of tech rehearsals and final dress rehearsals.
Show run begins, mid-September at The Playground Theater. (Either as a 10pm show or a midnight show.)

OCTOBER
Show runs through October, marketing to Halloween crowds.

NOVEMBER
Show closes two weeks into November.
Have post show meetings to get notes from collaborators, prepping for 2010 remount (barring disaster).

Let's just see how closely I stick to that, eh?

If all goes to well, I'll have a fully staged, choreographed, musical theater version of a film that I love. And hopefully that YOU love too. And would want to come be a part of and/or see, in the month of September/ October.

(Don't worry, I've got a backup plan, in case I get a C&D letter from the movie studio. Change names, Change the title, Pull out sections of dialogue, Change the product sufficiently, so as to be different enough from the original, to skirt copy-write laws. Adding original musical numbers aids that process.)

Consider this your ten month call to come see this fantastic show.

Cheers,
Mr.B

He Knows The Question. And He's Going to Pop It Too.

One of my best friends just casually mentioned to me, over the phone, that he's going to propose to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve. Speeding it's way to his apartment, right now, is his mother's own wedding ring. He's going to add a stone to it for his girlfriend and give it to her on Christmas Eve.

And by uttering that simple phrase, followed by "I told you this, didn't I?", this guy sent me spiraling into a dizzying spin of memory, nostalgia, regret and internal debate.

Instead of being excited for this good friend, I am left wondering how it has happened that I am the last of the four of us, all tight friends from college, who hasn't found someone for myself, yet.

Is it because I have dedicated too much time to theater and my artistic passions and left no time to be with someone?

Is it because I've had love and lost it or worst yet, denied it outright?

Is it because I've traditionally picked partners, based solely on my urges to help people who are suffering, and ended up dating girls who are just not emotionally stable enough to sustain a relationship?

Is it because I frequently have attractions for girls who are not available to be in a relationship with me and when they DO free up, they're too busy recovering from the relationship that they just left?

Is it because I've been too cautious? Have I held off for so long, that I'm no longer attractive as a potential partner? (Somebody once said, that a single, un-married guy in his .... 30's, 40's, one of the two... wasn't "an undiscovered gem", but was "a huge warning sign". When does that crossover happen?)

In my life, the concept of marriage and commitment have danced at the edges of all of my relationships.

One girl, I would've married, but I fucked it up, right proper, for the dumbest possible reason. I maintain the belief that I should be with her, to this day, 15 years later.

One girl, I wanted to marry. Her fucking another guy (maybe two others beyond him) ended all consideration there.

One girl, I also considered marrying, but frankly, she forced the issue by making living with her to be unlivable. Once that wasn't an option, marriage wasn't, either.

One girl, wanted to be married, even wanted to be married to me, but she wanted it before I did and once that pressure was applied, I got out, rather than continue to disappoint her, over and over again.

One girl, I would've married, but she ended things to go back to what was familiar to her and that was, as they say, that.

I know I bear responsibility for the decisions that I've made, to get myself here, to where I am. Both good and bad. I lit several of the matches that burned old relationships to the ground. Some of them were lit for me. And still others were not stable in their foundations, enough to consider habitation within. Once a person becomes an atheist and accepts responsibility for their own actions, it removes all influence of fate, random circumstance and God.

So, I am at the inescapable realization that I am where I am, because I have allowed myself to be here, either by choice, action or the lack thereof.

I am also reminded that if I were to be totally honest with myself, I WANT to be with someone.
I WANT to be married, committed, stable.
I WANT a partner and a lover and a friend and a wife.
I WANT her to be all of those things, rolled up into one.
I WANT to work to be worth her time, attention and commitment.
I WANT her to be worth mine.

I want these things and I do not have them. I'm not even on the path to have them. They do not seem to be eminent possibilities to me, right now.

And that's troubling to me.

This friend said, "When you know, you know" answering the doubts that I had not even voiced yet. Of course, my first question was going to be, "Is this too soon?" It was the first thing that came to my mind. And he, knowing me as well as he does, answered it before I even said anything. And then he helpfully added, "You know?" to which I had to honestly answer, "Not yet, I don't. Maybe someday."

You might have guessed who I am talking about. If you think you know, wait until after Christmas Day to confirm it with him. It will hurt his feelings to know that I'm talking about it here. So, do him that service, and don't discuss it with him, until after the turn of the year. There will be plenty of time to celebrate it then.

All My Best,
Mr.B

The Decemberists present "The Hazards Of Love".

I just got an email from The Decemberists, telling me about the release date for their next album, "The Hazards Of Love". (The band and I are pretty tight. So they email me every now and then, you know how it goes, right?) Anyways, Release Date? March 24th?

Here's the text of the email, in case they didn't happen to send it to you...

The Decemberists News |12.11.2008

Points of Order:
• The Hazards of Love gets a tracklist and a release date!
• Always a Bridesmaid: A Singles Series Vol. 3 available now!
• Tour merch now available at the online shop.

Adored Mailing List Recipients[1],

We Decemberists are pleased to announce that our forthcoming LP, The Hazards of Love, is, in the parlance of the industry, "in the can[2]". Four tumultuous months passed in the creation of the record, during which a new president was selected[3], 3 people associated with the band were married[4], birthdays too numerous to recount were celebrated and many tasty asada tacos from two of the vast array of taco trucks in the greater Portland east-side were consumed. And what do we have to show for it? Or at least that we can now reveal to you? A release date and a tracklist! As follows:

Release Date: March 24th[5] in the U.S. and March 23th[6] in the UK.[7]

Tracklist:

1. Prelude
2. The Hazards of Love 1 (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle the Thistles Undone)
3. A Bower Scene
4. Won't Want for Love (Margaret in the Taiga)
5. The Hazards of Love 2 (Wager All)
6. The Queen's Approach
7. Isn't it a Lovely Night?
8. The Wanting Comes in Waves / Repaid
9. An Interlude
10. The Rake's Song
11. The Abduction of Margaret
12. The Queen's Rebuke / The Crossing
13. Annan Water
14. Margaret in Captivity
15. The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)
16. The Wanting Comes in Waves (Reprise)
17. The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)



Well, there it is.

The tracklist.

And it looks like there some Abducting, Some Revenge and Then Somebody Drowns. (By my record, this would be the third such incident of somebody drowning in a Decemberists song. What does this tell us? Not to go to the beach with The Decemberists.

I like that the tracklist for the upcoming album, might also serve as Chapter lists for some Victorian Novel. I like that they're clearly weaving a narrative through their songs. To my mind, that's much more interesting than, "Hey, here's a bunch of random songs thrown together, that we worked out in jam sessions in a studio!"

Looks like I'll be downloading an album from Itunes on March 24th, assuming that the nation hasn't fallen completely into anarchy, by then. I'd be super-pissed if this rapidly dissolving nation got in the way of my digital music habits.

Cheers all,
Mr.B

News Flash - ACTOR SLITS OWN THROAT ONSTAGE. AGATHA CHRISTIE'S GHOST SAYS "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT?"

Saw this article on huffpost. My comments follow the article.

Actor slits his own throat as knife switch turns fiction into reality



An actor slit his throat on stage when the prop knife for his suicide scene turned out to be a real one.

Daniel Hoevels, 30, slumped over with blood pouring from his neck while the audience broke into applause at the "special effect". Police are investigating whether the knife was a mistake or a murder plot. They are questioning the rest of the cast, and backstage hands with access to props; they will also carry out DNA tests.

Things went wrong at Vienna's Burgtheater as Hoevels' character went to "kill himself" in the final scene of Friedrich Schiller's Mary Stuart, about Mary Queen of Scots, on Saturday night

It was only when he did not get up to take a bow that anyone realised something had gone wrong.

Though bleeding profusely, Hoevels survived because the knife missed the carotid artery as it sliced into his neck. Wolfgang Lenz, a doctor who treated him, said: "Just a little bit deeper and he would have been drowning in his own blood."

One officer told Austrian TV news: "The rumours are wild, with some claiming that he was the victim of jealous rival.

"We don't know anything for sure yet; we have to work through everyone."

The knife was reportedly bought at a local shop; one possibility is that the props staff forgot to blunt its blade. "The knife even still had the price tag on it," an investigator said.

After emergency treatment at a hospital, Hoevels declared that the show must go on, and returned to the stage on Sunday night with a bandage tied around his neck, ready to once again meet his mock demise.

Well, far be it from me to argue a little self-preservation at the expense of truthful performance onstage, but really?!?

I know it wasn't intentional, but there had to be a moment when this kid thought, "Ow! Fuck. This isn't the knife that we used in all of the dress rehearsals or the week of tech before performances began? I better not... cut my own throat open onstage. I better just pretend that I did it, forgo the blood effect, and then get backstage so that I can see what the fuck happened here."

Not this kid.

This kid goes all "Jack The Ripper" on himself, open up his neck and begins to bleed out onstage. Slumps over. Lays there, contemplating the random folly of fate, whilst he sullies up the floor's paint-job.

Why didn't he get up and motion to the blood coming out of his neck and seek out medical help?

Why did he just lay there and bleed on the stage?

Maybe he's young and inexperienced.
Maybe he's from the School of Dramatic Arts that say "Die for your art".
Maybe he's depressed and just decided to end it all on a terribly public manner.

There HAS to be a reason why this kid didn't follow the normal reactions to the accidental, public slicing of one's own throat. I would hate to think that he's just confirmation of the worst possible slanders of actors. I would hate to think of this of evidence of that tired old, backstage bon mot that actors are basically pretty sheep that need too much attention and can't be given actual responsibilities or expected to do much more than memorize dialogue and pose a bit. I surely would hate to think of this as confirmation of that...

Be safe out there, kids. Don't go slitting your own throats for regional theater. That's no way to win a Jeff.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Go See THE HEART OF THE GAME.

Okay, I need to tell you about this movie.

And then you need to go get it and watch it.

I don't care who you are.
I don't care what you feel about sports.
I don't care how you feel about documentaries.

If you are a human being and you are alive and aware and sensitive to the lives of the people around you, you need to see this movie.

I discovered this documentary film, two or three months ago, on a weekday afternoon, home sick from work. I laid in bed, flipping around, looking for something to watch, when I found this movie. I don't know why I stopped and watched any of it. I don't know jack about basketball. Especially ladies, high school basketball. But I did stop on it and I watched the whole thing, from that point on.

The ending of this movie is one of the most tense, heart-wrenching endings I've ever seen in my life. Reality wrote the best sports movie I've ever seen. That emotional release that all sports movies want you to feel at the climactic game? Yeah, well, this climactic game actually happened and it delivers on the promise that those other, fictional movies only promise.

Here's a brief plot description of the film from IMDB.

THE HEART OF THE GAME captures the passion and energy of a Seattle high school girls' basketball team, the eccentricity of their unorthodox coach, and the incredible true story of one player's fight to play the game she loves.

And really, that's all you should know, going into this movie. Everything else, the highs and the lows, you need to discover on your own.

Roger Ebert gave the movie 3 1/2 stars and said this about the film.

"The Heart of the Game" has the potential, like "Hoop Dreams," to win a large audience.

I would caution you away from his review, though, as he spoils the ending of the film in the first paragraph and it's really better if you don't know what's going to happen. No link here. If you really want to look it up, Google it yourself.

This film worked for me in a big way. The only other sports movie that affected me as much as this one did, was the Ali vs Frazier documentary, "When we were kings". This movie deserves an honored place on my home movie shelf, next to that one.

So, now you've heard about it.
You've been enticed, but not spoiled.
I'm closing out this review with the trailer for the film and it will show you the girls and that it's about girls basketball and the coach seems a little odd, but I'm telling you that there's much more to the story than that. But you'll have to seek it out on your own to see what I mean.

Which you should do.

As soon as you can.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Baguette!

I just wrote an email to a co-worker. In it, I mentioned a baguette that I was going to bring to a holiday function. I typed the word out naturally, without thinking about it.

"Baguette"

But then, when I went to mention it again, I thought about the word and typed it as I thought it would appear

"Bagette"

and my spell-checker helpfully underlined it in red, to point out my error.

I did not know that I knew how to correctly spell the word "Baguette" until I tried to do it and then failed. When I didn't TRY specifically to do it right, I nailed it on the first pass.

In this case, my brain got in the way of itself and screwed up something it was already perfectly capable of doing. Perhaps I should relax and employ my first instincts.

At least when spelling the names of French bread...

The Fear-Mongering, Ignorant, Racist Right Better Get Ready To Start Squeeling...

... because Barack Obama announced in a recent interview that he's...

A.) going to be sworn in by his whole name, "Barack Hussein Obama", when he's sworn in. I think he's intending it to be a sign that he's not hiding or backing away from his multi-cultural heritage.

and

B.) he's going to make "a major speech in an Islamic capital".

He's looking at all of this as an opportunity to "reboot" American foreign policy and American relations with the Muslim world. You can read the whole article here, in an online article by the recently Chapter 11'd Chicago Tribune. (Good to see them still churning out news, despite massive lay-offs and it's recent death knell. Maybe their in denial. I would be.)

I see what Obama is doing here. He's delivering on the promises of "change" that he promised in his campaign. After all, his predecessor launched a vaguely-defined, international war against... what was the term... "religious extremists" or something like that. (Pot, Kettle, Black.) Obama seems to be taking the exactly oppostite tactic here, reaching out to Islamic world, suggesting that he knows that Christians and Muslims haven't been well-represented by their most vocal representatives, lo these seven years now. And that new opportunity for progress and growth is present for the first time in a long time. That's a message that I think he needs to give. That's what a leader does, leads people to smarter, healthier, more constructive attitudes and practices.

He also says very clearly what his attitudes are in quotes like this...

"The message I want to send is that we will be unyielding in stamping out the terrorist extremism we saw in Mumbai," Obama said, adding that he plans to give a major address in an Islamic capital as part of his global outreach.

So, he's unwilling to accept terrorism as a manipulation technique by the fanatics of the world. But he's open to working with the 95% of peaceful muslims in the rest of the world. A win/ win tactic - tough on terrorism/ welcoming to peace.

And yet...

I see headlines like
"Barack Obama plans to reach out to Muslim world"
and
I read that he's going to make a major speech in an islamic capital
and
read about his intention of recognizing his "Hussein"-ness
and
I think about this...



and I remember this...



and this...



and I think to myself, "there are large patches of this country which aren't going to understand what he's trying to do here. This is not going to happen easily for him or for this country." If you were one of the people who, during the longest campaign in American History, were afraid that Obama was going to "turn the country all muslim" or "outlaw the bible" or "let the muslims in to the white house", then this announcement from him will unintentionally play right into your worst fears.

So, how do you balance a good and presidentially appropriate action against the unapologetic, only slightly supressed racism and ignorance of your most fearful citizens?

I would suggest a single tactic.

"Control the language of your actions"

This comes staight out of George Lakoff's "Don't think of an elephant". And it's the tactic that the right has used successfully to spin liberals into a twist and get a C+ alcoholic male cheerleader and failed businessman into the presidential office for eight years. It's a tactic that the left can employ to big success.

Right now, "islam" and "muslim" are negative buzzwords. Right or wrong, that's just the way that it is. My advice to Obama would be to continue with his plans, don't change a thing about his intentions, but focus less on the "muslim-targeted" language of his plans and make them more universal. Speak in the inclusive double-talk of the modern media.

Instead of "giving a major speech in an islamic capital", try "speaking for unity in one of the largest, most deeply spiritual cities of the world". Same message, negative buzzword avoided. The muslims in this town know what he's talking about, the rest of the world thinks he means Jerusalem and the right has nothing to bite onto, when they attack him for this.

Instead of "reaching out to muslims", try "embracing all peoples of faith and ending hateful stereotypes of recent years". Again, the muslims know exactly who you're talking about, without naming them. Everyone else thinks you mean whatever group they personally see as the oppressed.

I think the president-elect absolutely SHOULD be sworn in with his full name. Every president before him has done the same thing. And if it sends a message, then that message is "my heritage is nothing to be ashamed of and by suggesting otherwise, you reveal your own predjudices". And that's message enough.

Let's hope that the right-wing media misses this. Let's hope that they're focused on Blago and his problems and misses this completely. The last thing I want to see are the dying elephants of the right-wing hate-media, whipping the ignorant up into a dangerous, fearful fury. That's about as counter-productive an action as I can imagine, right now.

Cheers all,
Mr.B

Have you seen Lil O'Reilly yet?

Megaprops to SuperIntern Megan, who forwarded this to my attention at work, today.

Absolutely worth checking out.



Oh, Lil O'Reilly, you had me at "I hope you hit a whale on your way to France".

Here he is, mixing it up with Barney Frank.



"Gay! Gay! Gay! Gay! Gaaaaaaaaaay!"

Wow.

Between Colbert and this kid, O'Reilly is spawning an army of mimics and critics. I just want to know, where's the spot-on radio parody of Rush Limbaugh?

Cheers,
Mr.B

Joe vs His Girlfriend vs The Punisher.

Joe and I were in the living room, watching The Daily Show mercilessly rip apart the Moumbai terrorists. He would flick the remote at the DVR and fast forward the commercials. He was cuddled up on the couch, under a quilt. I was in my pajamas, slippers and robe, relaxing in the recliner.

"So, what movie did you and Mary go see today?" I asked him. I knew that he was excited to see "Quantum of Solace" and since I dug the movie, I wanted to see what he thought of it.

"Four Christmases," he said.

"Wait! What? What did you say?" I asked.

"We saw Four Christmases." he paused the fast-forwarding and looked over at me.

"Why? That movie looks like shit. The AICN reviewer said that he sincerely hopes that it kills the shitty, formulaic holiday movie genre entirely. Contrived plotlines. Broad, pointless characters. People doing and saying stupid things. Why would you go see that?" I was stunned. It was like Joe had casually said that he ate a fresh dog turd today.

"Mary wanted to see it," he said.

"Well, why didn't you try to talk her out of it. Arguably, helping her avoid that movie would've been an act of love." Clearly, I wasn't able to let this go.

"Mary wanted to see a holiday movie and that's the only one that's out now. So, we went to go see it. We were supposed to see two movies. Quantum of Solace early in the day and then Four Christmases in the afternoon. But we ended up sleeping in and missed the first movie and only saw Four Christmases. It wasn't that bad."

"Don't defend that piece of shit," I said. I helpfully added, "You better get some sort of extra sex acts for suffering through that movie. Extra Blowjobs. Or Better Blowjobs or something."

"Better than that, I got her to agree to see Punisher; War Zone with me when it opens."

"Dude, Punisher; War Zone is going to be ultra-violent. People's heads blow up. The Punisher kills people with furniture. Apparently, there's going to be a massive body count in that movie."

"I know that. And you know that. But she doesn't know that."

"Ah ha. I see," I said. " I understand now. For a second there, I thought you got the crap-end of that deal. I was almost going to feel sorry for you. But not now..."

Joe unpaused The Daily Show and we finished watching it together.

Cheers,
Mr.B

Oh, I'm Coming Home For Christmas.

It's been a busy week for re-building bridges for me. Old grievances that had aged to the point that they weren't present for re-consideration were re-examined, smoothed over and in some cases, repaired.

On Monday night, as I was walking into my theater to see opening night of our new show, I got a call from Hendo's cell. Thinking that something had gone "Boom" at the theater, I called him back immediately. When I told him that I was about walk into the theater, he explained that it wasn't time-critical and that I could give him a call back that night. And that was the plan.

The plan that I forgot.

After the show, I attended the reception briefly. My guest and I scooted out of there and cabbed up to our neighborhood. I walked her to her apartment. And on the cold walk home from her place, I got distracted by other issues and I completely forgot that I was supposed to call Hendo.

Tuesday evening, out in Beverly, after a two hour commute, Hendo called me back. We chatted about theater stuff for a bit. My theater. Our theater. People. Current Events. He even clued me in on some recent news that I'd previously missed.

At one point, he said, "Hey, not to get distracted by chit-chat, but I actually have a pitch that I want to make to you.." and with very little flourish, Hendo asked me if I would consider coming back to the BBR.

I want to be very clear here. It wasn't a suck-up session. Hendo didn't blow smoke up my ass or re-hash water well under the bridge. He just laid out his case, very matter of factly. My old job had opened up again. And the company was considering what to do with it and he'd made the case to ask me back. His point was that I could bring back the strengths that I brought to the show. And that the problems that he and I had, are pretty much resolved. And that the dynamic within the company had changed, also, to the point where the conditions were ripe for us to have a successful partnership again. He asked me to consider it.

And I did.
I am.

From my perspective, enough time has passed, that I'm over the issues that I had with Hendo. Issues that lead me to have to leave the company. And I didn't have any issues with the girls or the rest of the company. In short, there aren't a whole lot of obstacles for me to come back to the show.

I asked for a little time to think about it and suggested that i would want to contact Megan to get her thoughts on it. Hendo thought that was a good idea. He ended the call by thanking me for hearing him out and sincerely hoping that I would consider it. I thought that was very professional with him.

My phone call with Megan was also very professional. Honestly, it was easy and smooth and Megan has a good head on her shoulders. She and I agreed that we thought that was a lot of potential for good. And that the problems I had before have potential to not be problems anymore. She suggested that we take it on a trial basis, with the intention of aiming for a permanent return. Hendo identified a show on Dec. 20th, that needs coverage. Megan and I agreed that I would do that gig. No strings attached. (In a later phone call, Hendo identified a show on Dec. 15th at another joint, where I could see the show again, see the girls again, without performance pressure. A very good idea. I'm going.)

And that's where we left things. I have a show, back with the company, on Dec. 20th. Both Hendo and Megan treated me with respect and kindness and I really appreciate it. One of them said that "conditions were good for positive step forward for my relationship with the show" and I agree with them. For my part, I left the show between performances. One minute I was there. The next show, I wasn't. And it felt sad and undignified, considering my genuine high esteem for the girls and the show. So, one way to look at it, is that I get the very generous offer to tread the boards and "whoop" and holler for the girls, one more time. And honestly, that's the nicest thing that could've happened to me. Something so nice, that I couldn't even imagine it for myself, without a little help from my friends.

Never underestimate another human beings capacity for grace and kindness.

You never know someone so well, that you can fully appreciate their capacity to do good by you.

Cheers all,
Mr.B

How I Got Sold On An XBOX 360...

I'm not a big video-game guy. My most advanced game system is an XBOX and I've had that thing since college. I still play HALO and a few MEDAL OF HONOR games on it. But when the XBOX 360 was announced a year or two ago, I didn't really have any urge to go get one. To be honest, it pissed me off that the system didn't play XBOX games. As if Microsoft was telling me that I couldn't have the games that I wanted. I had to go play these games instead. To be honest, I didn't really give it any more thought than that.

MORROWIND:OBLIVION game out and I was tempted, but decided against it.

GEARS OF WAR came out and everyone raved about it, but I decided against it.

My beloved HALO 3 came out and that one almost got me. I thought about buying a 360 then. Expecially when I saw all of the commercials for it. It looks fantastic.

But then, someone on CIN posted this today...

Ghostbusters - Atari Live Trailer
by dpadmagazine

And I knew, as surely as I am telling you now, I HAVE to get this game system and I HAVE to get this game.

I'm a HUGE Ghostbusters fan. That movie hit me at the right age and I saw it a bazillion times. I still catch myself quoting that movie without thinking about it.

"Mother Puss Bucket!"

and

"Dogs and Cats! Living Together! Mass Hysteria!"

That they got the original cast members to reunite for dialogue is the blessing that I needed to accept this thing. This game is offering me the pure undiluted pleasure of a nostalgic overload that "Indiana Jones 4" and "Transformers" failed to deliver to me.

I got so excited when I saw that trailer today, that I started shopping game systems online immediately. I'm currently weighing the benefits of a 120gig system over a 60gig system. Whatever I decide, I will own that game system by January.

I left work in a rush, day-dreaming about this game. I actually stopped at Blockbuster and picked up a used copy of the original XBOX game "STAR WARS: THE LEGO SEQUELS" and have been playing that in my room tonight. Little LEGO guys hopping around and light-sabering little LEGO drones. I dig it.

And of course, when I get the XBOX 360, I'm picking up LEGO INDIANA JONES and LEGO BATMAN, asap. And that's how Microsoft converted me from "not caring about an XBOX 360 at all" to "full on raving until I get one". All it took was one game trailer. Well, the right game trailer.


"Bustin' makes me feeeel goooood!"

My Co-workers

I work in a theater.
I do theater administration.
That's my day job.

My co-workers work in their various departments, administrating their work too.
That is their day job.

But I'm secretly a writer, director and improviser. I also cartoon, take photographs, sew and tell stories. I perform with one of the smartest improv troupes in the city and I produce my own late-night comedy shows. If you produce an interesting show concept, I'll come act in your show and make it as strong as I possibly can.

My co-workers have their secret lives too.
Let me tell you a little bit about them.

One of my co-workers is our part-time book-keeper. Secretly, he directs shows and plays the saxophone.

My Director of Development is a playwright and was recently honored at a theater festival.

My Director of Special Events and Individual Giving is a dancer and performs in the occasional dance revue, here in town.

My Literary Manager is a playwright of some renown. (Which makes sense, actually.)

My Events & Audience Services Manager is a theater director and writes theater reviews around town under a pseudonym.

My House Manager is a classically trained vocalist who is in high demand to perform in church services and other major events around town.

One of my interns is a Neo-Futurist. She's also a talented, expressive writer.

Oh and my Education Director is a rock star, who performs with a pretty popular, well-known rock group. An Honest to God rock star.

I just wanted to quickly note that the people that I work with, although they're good at their jobs and very skilled in the work that they do, also lead fascinating night-lives that showcase their otherwise untapped talents.

By day, we produce theater.
At night, we live it.

Cheers,
Mr.B

News Flash - Ugandan Men Are Falling For REAL Booby Traps...

Just saw this posted on YahooNews...

Ugandan Men Warned of "Booby Trap".
Friday, November 28 07:04 pm

Uganda's police warned male bar-goers to keep their noses clean after a probe found a gang of robbers had been using women with chloroform smeared on their chests to knock their victims unconscious.

"They apply this chemical to their chest. We have found victims in an unconscious state," Criminal Investigations Directorate (CID) spokesman Fred Enanga told AFP.

"You find the person stripped totally naked and everything is taken from him," he said. "And the victim doesn't remember anything. He just remembers being in the act of romancing."

Enanga, who explained that several types of heavy sedatives had been used, said he first came across the practice last year when an apprehended thief named Juliana Mukasa made a clean breast of the matter.

"She is a very dangerous lady," the official said.

While early investigations suggest that the gang may consist of dozens of members, the source of the sedatives remains unknown.

"We don't know exactly how they get these materials," Enanga added. "That is something that our investigations must crack."

He called on men, particularly travelling businessmen who tend to carry a lot of cash, to take caution.

"It's a serious situation and people have to be aware."

Okay, first of all, the pun that I highlighted doesn't make any fucking sense. Look, I get it. You're a bored AP writer, this story of "Drugged Cleavage" comes along and your first instinct is to make a juvenile joke. That was my first instinct too. But "making a clean breast of the matter" just doesn't make any fucking sense. It's such an awkward, hammy thrusting of "breast" into a phrase that it screams "SOMEBODY'S MAKING A FUCKING PUN HERE, YAL!" which defeats the joke entirely. Just terrible. Really. Boo.

That said, "HOLY CHRIST! WOMEN ARE PUTTING CHLOROFORM IN THEIR CLEAVAGE TO ROB TRAVELERS!" Congrats to some clever Ugandan Lady-Thieves for ripping off Poison Ivey's M.O. from an old Batman comic.

Initially, my first thought is, "wouldn't the guys smell the chloroform?" I think I would. As I understand it, Chloroform smells chemically. Like cleaning fluid. You'd notice it. Even when you're nose deep in some strange Ugandan women's cleavage.

Or at the very least, when you start to pass out, you'd go "Fuck! Maybe it's this chemical smell coming from between these two big, black Ugandan boobs!" and then pull your face out and get away scott-free!

The nearest I can figure is that liberal amounts of booze were consumed (been there) and that the ladies applied a GENEROUS amount of chloroform (but not too much to knock themselves out) and when the traveler went in for the kill, these ladies must've HELD THEM THERE, by clamping onto their heads and held them in place until the dudes passed the fuck out. (I can see that happening. I can see that happening to me.) Which begs the question, why didn't these Ugandan lady-thieves just whack these dudes with a blackjack, knock their asses out, tie them up and rob them then? Why go to such huge, grand-gestaltian, super-villainess routes?

I just feel like the world has somehow been lessened when the men of the world can't trust the cleavage right in front of our eyes. When a lady says, "Put your face here", we now have to be thinking, "Is she going to drug me with her chloroform boobs and rob me, leaving me naked and stranded somewhere? And not in the good way?" I feel like something has been lost. The innocence of the cleavage perhaps.

Keep your noses clean (and well ventilated) gentlemen.

Cheers,
Mr.B

34 Reasons to have sex.

Hey, the ever-helpful AOL News just posted this article on 34 reasons why sex is health-beneficial for you. Everything from "increases sense of smell" to "reduces risk in heart attacks for men, by half" to "Helps you sleep better". I could've told you about that last one.

In any case, ladies, give this article a read. That way you'll know what I mean, when I drunkenly stagger up to you in the bar offering to "release your aggression by the careful application of tactile stimulation". Best pickup line ever.

Yeah.

Cheers,
Mr.B



PS. If sex honestly reduces a man's chances of a heart attack or a stroke, I should be the heart-healthiest fucker on the planet. I'm having sex all the time. Just by myself. Same thing, right?!?